


On Dragon's Wings

by SwanFloatieKnight



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Related, Episode: s03e01 The Tears of Uther Pendragon (Part I), Episode: s03e02 The Tears of Uther Pendragon (Part II), Fever, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poison, Poisoning, Recovery, Sick Merlin (Merlin), Sickfic, Whump, caring!Kilgharrah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwanFloatieKnight/pseuds/SwanFloatieKnight
Summary: When Merlin got stung by a serket, it is left to Kilgharrah to care for him
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 208





	On Dragon's Wings

A/N: I posted this fic on Ao3, and on Ao3 alone. If you read this on any other website or platform, please consider that I did not consent to this.

* * *

He had felt safe while following Morgana through the woods. Nothing had looked like she had suspected anything. But she had known. She had known that he had followed her all along, and when she had called him out he had started to run. Just run, run, to get away, away from Morgana and Morgause. Then he had fallen, and everything had gone black.

When he woke up again in the forest, he was bound with a strong metal chain. Two men hauled him into a halfway upright position. His head hurt, he felt a little dizzy. He wasn’t entirely sure if he had been knocked out by some external force or if he had just managed to stumble and hit his head hard enough. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Morgause was standing before him. Merlin was kneeling on the forest ground, his head pounding and a root digging into his left knee, what hurt but he couldn’t do much about it. So he just grit his teeth and listened to what the sorceress had to say.

“You intrigue me, Merlin. Why does a lowly servant continue to risk everything for Arthur and for Camelot?”

Merlin raised his eyes at Morgause and tried to put as much determination in this look as humanly possible. Oh, he knew very well why he was risking everything for Arthur. It was more than destiny. More than devotion. More than loyalty. Or rather, it was loyalty of a different kind. But he wouldn’t tell Morgause about that. He looked away, blushing.

“You know the answer, but you are not telling me. Why?”

His eyes went back to Morgause, but still didn’t speak.

“Come on, time and again you’ve put your life on the line.” Now Morgause walked towards him, she kneeled down right next to him, looked him in the eye.

Merlin didn’t look at her, staring straight ahead. He didn’t want to answer this question, to give away his probably best protected secret, alongside his magic. But he knew that she wouldn’t just leave him alone, and after another second he finally found words that were as neutral as possible and wouldn’t give too much away: “I believe in a fair and just land.”

“And you think Arthur will give you that?”

“I know it.” He did. He was certain that Arthur would become a great king. He was confident in what they would achieve together. They were two sides of the same coin, after all. His trust in Arthur was why he would willingly lay down his life for him, why he would protect Arthur at all costs. Even though this was not the only reason.

But Morgause just shook her head and rose again with a snort. “And then what? You think you’ll be recognised, Merlin? Is that it? All this so one day you can be a serving boy to the king?”

Merlin didn’t answer to that. He never had sought any credit and certainly would not do so in the future. That was not why he did it. Also he knew that he would not be a serving boy, he barely was one now. But he doubted that Morgause would understand the deep and loving relationship he and Arthur shared. How much more they were than prince and servant.

Morgause seemed to sense it, or maybe she just felt that Merlin wasn’t telling her the full truth. “No… there’s something more. Something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

Now Merlin looked at her again, his eyes cold and determined. “’I’ve told you.” Never would he tell Morgause about him and Arthur. Never would he betray his love.

“Well…” Morgause sighed. “You can take your secret to your grave. _Weorþ untoworpenlic_!” Her eyes glowed gold, then the chains around Merlin’s body gleamed and wound themselves even tighter around him so that it hurt. “You chose to poison one of my own. You may regret that.”

With these words, Morgause and her men left him.

Merlin was afraid, even though he would never admit it. He was alone, in the middle of the forest, and nobody even knew he was there. He sunk back into the dirt, a weary sigh escaping his lips. The chains around his body restricted his every movement, even his breathing was laboured. There was not much use in his struggles, but he had to try, at least make an attempt to free himself.

“ _Abrecaþ benda_!” he tried, but the spell just made the chains gleam. He should have known that Morgause had enchanted them with a spell that would protect them not only from physical force, but also from magic. Even when he tried the spell again, this time with more emphasis, it didn’t work. Not that he really had expected it to work, but it had been worth a try.

He thought for a moment before he came up with another spell: “ _Irenfæstnunga onlucaþ me_!” but it was as ineffective as the first one. Panic welled up in his chest, and when he heard the rustling of leaves and crunching of breaking branches in the forest all around him it became overwhelming. He had to get rid of those chains, he had to get back to Camelot and warn Arthur! Morgana was a traitor, and he was caught here, unable to move and –

There were serkets. Oh gods, there were serkets. And they were huge and crawling nearer, their stings erect and ready to attack.

Merlin took a breath as deep as the chains allowed him. “ _Min strangest miht hate þe tospringan_!” he cried, but just like the times before, the chains glowed silvery and didn’t loosen a bit.

Merlin groaned in frustration. The serkets were approaching fast, and there were a lot of them. Too many to fight them, even if he had a sword and was able to move. Merlin was frightened. He tried to fight them off with magic, but at the same time he couldn’t get his mind off of the fact that he was still bound and somehow needed to get rid of those horrible chains and the serkets were just too many and –

Just when he had formed a spell in his head that would hold those horrid beasts at a safe distance, he felt a sharp, burning pain in his back. He doubled over and cried out, an impulsive wave of magic burst out of him and smashed the serket against the next tree.

But it was too late. It had stung him, and Merlin could feel the deadly poison spreading through his body. For now, it was mainly pain in his back. Serket’s poison was meant to kill slowly. His hands began to tremble from the stress though, he couldn’t think clearly, all his mind could comprehend was that it _hurt_. Of course, Morgause would like him to suffer. But he would die, probably even if somebody would come and help him.

Then, his instincts took over. A cry broke lose from his chest, a deep roar, he was calling for the dragon. His whole body was shaking now, he collapsed to the ground, exhausted and in pain. Even breathing hurt, his heart was beating fast and hard, but he was still alive, and somehow still conscious. And still, the serkets were there, ready to strike again. Merlin swore to himself that he wouldn’t give up. He had to return to Arthur, couldn’t leave his side. He needed to warn him about Morgana’s betrayal, he had to –

Where was that bloody dragon?

Merlin fought the serkets with all his remaining strength, which wasn’t much, but apparently it was enough. Enough to keep him alive till dusk. By then, he felt nauseous and dizzy. His head was spinning, even though he was lying on the ground. It was impossible watch out for all the serkets at once, and he soon found that he had not enough energy left to protect himself with a magical shield. His body was trying to fight the poison, but he would lose this fight inevitably. He felt weak and feverish, his muscles were trembling and his heart was racing. He was struggling for breath, his weakened heart couldn’t pump his blood fast enough and the chains still restricted his chest. Everything hurt. If it wasn’t for Arthur, he probably would have given up fighting hours ago. What use was there in suffering through this agony, when in the end, the poison would claim his life anyways?

Then, he heard the swoosh of the dragon’s wings, and a ball of fire broke through the trees, roasting the serkets, and Merlin felt a wave of relieve wash through his exhausted body. The heat of the fire was nearly unbearable despite the fever chills running through him, but this was nothing against the overwhelming feeling of knowing that he was no longer alone. Kilgharrah had come for him, would hopefully take him back to Camelot, to Gaius… but he had forbidden the dragon to enter Camelot again…

The dark fog on the edges of Merlin’s mind spread quickly now, he couldn’t fight it off any longer. Maybe it was too late already. Maybe not even Kilgharrah could help him now. His eyes drifted shut. The last thing he felt were the strong claws of the dragon gripping him and lifting him off the ground while unbearable agony shot through his body. Then, blissful unconsciousness claimed him at last.

As soon as Kilgharrah had heard his master’s call he had tried to get to him, but he had been far away and it had taken him hours to reach Merlin. He had felt the young warlock’s distress, his pain, him getting weaker and despite Merlin’s determination to fight the poison and his magical powers he had not been sure if he would reach him in time.

He didn’t care much for the serkets, only for the slender form of the young man who laid on the ground, groaning in pain and barely able to breath. Kilgharrah breathed fire on the serkets, scaring them away so that he could get closer to Merlin. He felt Merlin losing consciousness when he picked him up, the pain searing through his body when he was moved being too much for him. As fast as he could, Kilgharrah flew off into the night. He needed to bring Merlin to safety.

Kilgharrah knew of a place in the mountains, not too far away. There he would be able to care for Merlin. Merlin’s heart rate was dangerously high, but at the same time his blood pressure was dropping rapidly as his system slowly gave in to the poison. His fever was raging, and still the chains that restricted his breathing were wrapped around his body. Kilgharrah needed to hurry if Merlin should get a chance.

As soon as he reached the cave, he carefully lowered Merlin to the ground and breathed a spell over him. The chains clanked and then dissolved into thin air. Morgause’s magic was no match for him, and neither was the serket’s poison. A golden mist wrapped itself around Merlin, slowly seeping into his shaking body. Kilgharrah knew the spell to heal him, but he also knew that it would take some time till Merlin would be well again. The poison was strong, and it had been wreaking havoc for hours. Now it was all up to Merlin, and if he was strong enough to survive the fever.

Never in his life had Kilgharrah felt more helpless as he did this night. He was watching Merlin who was shuddering and shaking, tossing weakly, moaning in pain. Even though his fever broke after a while, Merlin was still far from recovered. Kilgharrah couldn’t even give him some water, he had no blanket, no mattress, nothing to somehow make him more comfortable. All he was able to do was watch over him, and keep him warm by breathing hot air over him.

After some hours, Merlin finally regained consciousness. His fingers moved reflexively, his eyelids fluttered, a quiet sigh escaped his lips. Then, he slowly moved, tried to turn onto his back, but had to stop when he felt the sting in his back again. His face twisted in pain. Then, his eyes fell upon the dragon.

“I didn’t think you’d answer my call,” he croaked.

“Merlin.” Kilgharrah tried to smile at him, despite his concern. Merlin was getting better, but he was still weak. “I could not resist a Dragonlord, even if I wanted to.”

Merlin managed a small smile. “I’m grateful, thank you.” He tried to sit up, but his muscles protested, and the pain that the small movement caused made him groan.

“Lie still,” Kilgharrah warned him.

“Ow… my head…” Merlin whispered, tears burning in his eyes. There was a hammering ache behind his forehead, and he felt dizzy and nauseous now that he had tried to lift his head. Even though he was lying down again, it didn’t go away. He closed his eyes. His throat was dry and hurt, his tongue was sticking to his palate. A small gust of wind blew down from the mountain, cooled the sweat that he was bathed in and made him shiver.

Kilgharrah looked at him pitifully. “The serket’s poison is powerful. I have given you an enchantment that will help you heal, but it will take time.”

Merlin sighed. Poison… serkets… He remembered the forest, the chains that were now gone, Morgause, and then, in the end, there had been fire and Kilgharrah had saved him. Now, he was exhausted. He needed water, but he couldn’t even sit up on his own, and he still felt dizzy and miserable. Then, another warm breath of air ghosted over his skin, and he relaxed somewhat. Darkness enwrapped his mind once again, and Merlin didn’t fight it, but let the deep sleep of healing claim him.

When Merlin woke again, it was dark again. Kilgharrah had kept watch over him for the rest of the night and the whole day. Merlin looked confused at first, but then he looked at the dragon accusingly.

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep!”

“I had no choice, young warlock. The venom was too strong, even for your great powers.” Kilgharrah slowly shook his head. Merlin was not yet recovered. The poison was out of his system, but it had left him weak and vulnerable. He needed to rest, but he was too impatient.

“I don’t have time. I need to get back to Camelot.” Merlin struggled to his feet. He swayed a little, but managed to stay upright. “The kingdom is in danger and… it’s my fault.”

Kilgharrah sighed. “You did what you felt was right. And that shows great courage. But trust is a double-edged sword.”

Merlin nodded, he saw the dragon’s point now, but still he insisted: “I need to get back to Camelot.” If he wouldn’t be back in time, nobody would protect Arthur from Morgana’s treachery!

“You’re not yet fully recovered, Merlin, and it’s more than three days’ walk.”

There it was again, that small grin that tugged at Merlin’s lips that usually meant trouble and that Kilgharrah had learned to fear. Yet, it gave him a little hope that Merlin really was on the mend, if he already could grin like that. “I have no intention of walking.”

And who was he to disobey a Dragonlord’s order?


End file.
